


Crossing Fields

by labomi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Human Trafficking, Political tensions, Racism, Servitude/Slavery, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labomi/pseuds/labomi
Summary: Byleth is captured during a border skirmish between Fódlan and Almyra while on a mission with her father's mercenary group. She finds herself being auctioned off in a giant human trafficking Almyran market where she feels the intense stare of a pair of bright green eyes among the crowd. She is sold to a man with a devious smile, a terrible winking habit, and a soon-to-be crown on his head.Eventual Claudeth/Bylaude AU
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I am in FE3H HELL, so there's no surprise I finally wrote a fic. Not ashamed to say I spent most of my Valentine's Day night writing this. Also a fair warning I have no idea how this story will go. I haven't really planned anything thoroughly, so I apologize if this turns out to be a mess. But I least hope you enjoy!
> 
> Now that this is uploaded I'm off to finally play the new DLC and meet the Ashen Wolves! I've heard good things, so I'm excited!

Byleth exhaled softly, noticing she could no longer see her breath in the air. It was one of the subtle changes that became more apparent during her long journey. Snow covered grounds gradually melted into a greener, less frozen scenery. Once barren trees were now covered in tiny buds, and flowers were starting to poke out of the ground. The signs of spring were finally noticeable in these lands. Byleth shifted in her saddle uncomfortably. Spring meant warmer temperatures. She was wearing far too many layers for this weather. The mercenary dropped the reins, trusting her horse to follow the rest of the group in front. She took off her fur coat, placing it in her lap before pulling off a thick dark blue sweatshirt a kind woman in Faerghus had given her. Byleth sighed in relief, enjoying the cool air on her skin. She no longer felt stuffy and overheated. How long had it been since she was able to solely wear her normal mercenary outfit outside?

“You alright, kid?” Byleth looked to her left where her father had dropped back from the main group to check on her. His horse kept pace with his daughter.

“Yes,” she replied, fixing her hair. “It’s warmer here.”

Jeralt chuckled. “It’s a nice change of scenery after being in Faerghus for so long.” Their mercenary group had spent the past few months in the frigid lands of the Holy Kingdom for a job. Living in the rugged landscape at the peak of winter was a difficult experience for all, but the pay was good and Jeralt could not pass up the opportunity to test everyone’s survival skills. “This’ll be your first time in the Duchy of Goneril.”

Byleth nodded, shoving her extra layers into one of the bags hanging from her saddle. The east end of the Leicester Alliance was the group’s next destination. Duke Holst Goneril requested the infamous Jeralt and crew to deal with an elusive group of bandits who hid in the mountains of Fódlan’s Throat. They periodically raided Fódlan’s Locket of precious supplies and weapons. In ordinary circumstances, House Goneril would be able to handle such a nuisance, but they were facing an increasing number of attacks by the Almyran forces. They did not have enough personnel or resources to devote to two battles on two different fronts. Therefore, Jeralt and his mercenaries were hired to handle the thieves in the mountains which would allow Duke Holst to focus all his attention on protecting Fódlan from the foreign threat.

“Be sure to watch yourself,” Jeralt warned. “We’ll be close to the border. I’m more worried about us accidentally stumbling upon Almyrans in the mountains than us finding those bandits unprepared. They’re a bunch of ruthless savages. Constantly attacking us without good reason, breaking treaties, and such. An untrustworthy lot. Keep your guard up.”

“I know, Dad,” Byleth sighed. She had grown up listening to the horror stories about Almyrans by the men in the mercenary company. All children in Fódlan were taught at a young age about the rumors and myths surrounding the country to the east. These tales seemed to be based on more fiction than fact as Byleth was skeptical that Almyrans had fangs the size of wolves and ate their young if deemed to be too weak. However, these tales illustrated the deeply rooted fear and mistrust of Almyrans in the hearts of Fódlan residents.

Jeralt gave a small smile, patting his daughter’s leg affectionately. “Come on. We’re trailing behind. Let’s catch up with the rest of the group.” He spurred his horse into a gallop, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

Byleth gently stroked her horse’s neck. “Let’s go girl,” she murmured, urging the animal into gallop and following her father.

\---

The mountains of Fódlan’s Throat were stunning. Byleth stood there in awe of their sheer size and intimidating presence.  _ These must be skilled bandits to survive in this kind of terrain _ , she thought to herself.  _ Not just anyone could survive in these mountains _ . The mercenary now understood why House Goneril was having a difficult time handling the situation.

“Stick close to one another,” Jeralt commanded at the front of the group. “We’re almost at Fódlan’s Locket. We just have to follow this trail through the mountains until we reach the fortress. It’ll be slow going with the horses due to the terrain, so be prepared for a longer than expected journey.” Once everyone acknowledged his words, Jeralt slapped the reins of his horse and began to lead the group into the mountains. Byleth quickly urged her horse forward to catch up with her father. She found herself next to Jeralt, looking at the winding trail in front of them.

“What’s Duke Holst like?” Byleth asked curiously. 

“A great man,” Jeralt replied. “He’s one of the best generals in the Leicester Alliance. There’s talk that he’ll succeed Duke Riegan and become the next ruler.”

“I see.”  _ So this man was the real deal.  _ Byleth wondered what it would mean if Duke Holst became leader of the Alliance. He was in command of protecting the border with Almyra. If he was gone, who would replace him? Would he lead a war against the foreign threat to silence them once and for all? Byleth took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to settle her thoughts. 

_ You are a mercenary. Do not concern yourself with politics. You are here to get the job done and get paid. That is all. _

Jeralt looked at his daughter. He understood her silences well. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Byleth replied, looking ahead. “Nothing important at least.”

\---

Duke Holst greeted the mercenary group at the gates of Fódlan’s Locket flanked by several soldiers at his side. With his striking cropped pink hair and bright smile, he was certainly an eye-catching general. “Welcome! Welcome!” he exclaimed in a loud voice. Jeralt dismounted his horse and gave Holst a firm handshake. 

“It’s good to see you, Holst. How are you and your soldiers faring?”

The general gave a hearty laugh. “We’re hanging in there! Though we really appreciate the extra help from you and your men. Those Almyrans never let us rest for too long, always keeping us on our toes. We barely have time to deal with pesky bandits.” Bringing her own horse to a stop, Byleth also dismounted and walked over towards her father. She was curious about the future leader of the Alliance.

“Ah, and who might this be?” Holst asked, turning his attention to the approaching woman.

“This is my daughter, Byleth,” Jeralt replied.

“Oh! I didn’t know you had a daughter.” A hint of surprise was in the man’s voice. Jeralt grunted.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

Byleth bowed respectfully to Holst. “It’s an honor to meet you, Duke Holst.”

The general grinned, giving his own polite bow. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Byleth. I hope you had a smooth journey to the Duchy of Goneril.” The woman nodded.

“It was an uneventful trip. A journey with no surprises is always the best-case scenario for us mercenaries.”

“Of course! Now you and the rest of your group must be tired from traveling all day.” Holst turned to the rest of the mercenaries and gestured wildly to grab their attention. “Everyone! Please grab your belongings and head into the fortress. My men will take care of your horses and the rest of your equipment. Follow me!”

\---

Everyone was first shown their quarters in order to drop off their personal belongings. Byleth would share a small room with the few other women in the group. As everyone settled in, Jeralt and the senior mercenaries immediately went to work and had a meeting with Holst about defeating the bandits. While most others decided to take a nap or sneak some food out of the kitchen, Byleth decided to spend her free time exploring the fortress. It was a rare opportunity to experience first-hand the structure that both the Alliance, Kingdom, and Empire joined together to build.

The fortress was massive as expected. After climbing numerous stairs and turning random corners, Byleth somehow found herself outdoors once again at the top of Fódlan’s Locket. It was a breathtaking sight. Massive mountains surrounded the area on each side. Leaning over the wall, she peered off into the distance among the trees that dotted the landscape.  _ Where was the border? _ It was hard to tell exactly where Fódlan ended and Almyra began. The land seemed to just stretch out continuously in all directions. Byleth couldn’t help but be curious about the neighbors to the east. As a mercenary, she was constantly exploring new areas and having new experiences. The forbidden nature of Almyra made the country that much more tempting to Byleth. Perhaps she might stumble across an Almyran during her stay at the border. Then she would be able to definitively prove whether or not they really did have fangs the size of wolves.

\---

True to Jeralt’s nature, the mercenary immediately gave everyone a breakdown of how the job would be accomplished the night they arrived at Fódlan’s Locket. They all sat together in a large meeting room where a map of the area was displayed on the wall. 

“We currently don’t know the whereabouts of these bandits,” Jeralt said. “Therefore, we’ll split into two groups.” He pointed at the location of the fortress on the map. “One will head North and the other South. The goal is to find their camp. Since we’ll be splitting our forces, we should avoid engaging in combat until we can better assess their strength and numbers. Our mages will be in charge of ensuring communication by warping messengers between the two groups. The bandits seem to only attack during night, so we will travel during daylight based on the assumption this is when they rest. I know we just got here, but we’ll be heading out tomorrow.” A couple of groans echoed throughout the room. “I know, I know,” Jeralt sympathized. “But unfortunately, time is of the essence for this mission. We can’t afford having Fódlan Locket continue to be raided. Additionally, the more armed these bandits become, the harder it will be to defeat them. Lastly, I don’t like us being this close to the Almyran border.” Jeralt’s gaze rested on Byleth. “The sooner we’re out of here, the better. Dismissed!” 

Everyone around Byleth stood up and immediately got ready to head to bed. She overheard snippets of everyone’s reactions to the mission.

“Jeez, we’re already heading out tomorrow? I’m still exhausted from the climb up here.”

“I was hoping we’d have more time to meet some of the House Goneril soldiers, if you know what I mean.”

“Jeralt’s right. Being this close to the Almyran border is giving me the creeps. I want to get out of here as soon as I can.”

Byleth stayed behind, wanting to say good night to her father before heading out. When the room was mostly cleared and Jeralt had finished talking to the mercenaries who either asked questions or voiced concerns, Byleth stood up and walked over to her father.

“How do you feel about the plan, kid?” Byleth hummed, crossing her arms and tapping her chin in thought.

“It seems reasonable. Though I worry about if the bandits discover us first and attack while we’re not at our full strength.” Jeralt nodded in agreement.

“Splitting up our forces is risky, but our group is strong. If we’re ambushed, we’ll be able to send messengers to the other group quickly and have our mounted units dispatch as soon as possible.” The man patted his daughter on the head. “Get some rest. We’ll need to be in top shape for this next mission.”

Byleth nodded. “Good night, Dad.”

“Good night, kid.”

\---

It was only the first night of their mission when everything went wrong.

The day started off exactly as planned. The mercenaries were split into two evenly powered groups laden with food, weapons, and other supplies to last for however long it took them to find the bandits. Byleth accompanied her father. Though Jeralt trusted his daughter’s skills and knew she could fend for herself, he was still a bit hesitant to be away from her for too long. He felt more at ease knowing she would be in the same group as him. They set off several hours after the sun had appeared on the horizon, ideally hoping to cover a decent amount of ground before dusk approached. Lord Holst saw the mercenaries off, waving enthusiastically with a bright grin. “Come back soon and come back safe! Teach those bandits a lesson for me, will ya?”

Byleth and most of the other mercenaries decided to forgo their horses and travel on foot for this mission. Jeralt was one of the few who took a horse on the mission. The mercenary leader was incredibly skilled at horseback combat so being mounted on this terrain was not a hindrance to him at all. 

Shortly after noon, the group had traveled a decent amount North, but Fódlan’s Locket could still be seen from the peak of the mountain they were on. Travelling was slow, as the group was constantly keeping an eye out for the bandits and ensuring they were quiet enough not to be easily heard at a distance. Additionally, the rocky terrain was difficult for all to climb. The steep incline of the mountains had plenty of the mercenaries stumbling and cursing, unable to get a solid footing. 

Jeralt surveyed the land in front of him. The peak of this mountain was perfect to get a good look at the journey ahead. “The bandits are likely hiding in the forested areas further North,” Jeralt stated, pointing at a large wooded area far off in the distance. The trees looked like tiny specks from where they stood. “It looks like it’ll take us a while to get there though. Continue to stay alert.”

As the sun began to set, the group decided to set up camp for the night. They had found a small clump of trees at the base of a tall mountain which sheltered them from the north. Byleth could make out the shape of Fódlan’s Locket from their camp among the trees and mountains. The mercenaries shared a modest dinner together before assigning overnight watch shifts. Byleth laid on her cot, staring up at the sky through the trees as the stars began to appear. They were beautiful. For some reason, the stars seemed to shine brighter out here in the mountains. Soon, Byleth struggled to keep her eyes open and found herself fast asleep.

It was a gasp that woke up Byleth. As a mercenary, she was trained to be a light sleeper. To be awake at a moment’s notice and immediately ready to attack. Byleth quickly scrambled to her feet, grabbing the sword next to her that she never slept without. She soon realized they were not under attack, but something else was happening. Something that made her stomach feel uneasy. Around her, all the mercenaries were awake and staring in the direction of Fódlan’s Locket. A strange red glow could be seen.

“What’s going on?” Someone asked next to Byleth.

“I don’t know. Wait. Do you see that? In the skies?” another mercenary questioned. Numerous dark shapes quickly darted around the fortress. They were barely visible in the night sky, but one could see the way they briefly blocked the stars as they travelled. Wyverns.

“It’s an attack,” Jeralt announced suddenly. “The Almyrans are attacking. There’s no way those bandits would have gotten past either of our groups. Holst told me they rarely resort to violence. Instead they use clever distractions and sneaky tactics to steal unnoticed.” The red glow suddenly became much brighter before dimming back down again. Streaks of lightning appeared in the sky. Remnants of thunder magic. “This looks bad.” Jeralt turned to face the group of mercenaries. “I am officially postponing our mission. Our new priority is to assist the House Goneril soldiers and drive back the Almyran forces from our border. Lea!” He pointed to the strongest mage in the group. “Warp Lukas as close as you can to the other group, so he can tell them we’re joining the battle to defend the fortress. Mounted units we’re heading out first. Everyone else, leave anything that isn’t essential and move as quickly as you can. One last thing.” Jeralt scanned the group with a fierce look in his eyes. “Stay alive,” he commanded. And with that, Jeralt immediately mounted his horse and charged towards the direction of the fortress with the other mounted units close behind.

It only took several heartbeats for the mercenaries to absorb their leader’s commands and spring into action. Everyone scrambled to prepare themselves for the imminent battle before running after Jeralt. Byleth quickly shoved two vulneraries in her pockets before grabbing two spare swords and attaching them to her belt. She grabbed her main silver sword and ran after the others, leaving behind the rest of her belongings. The mercenary knew she had to pack light. Extra weight from equipment would only slow her down, and she needed to get to the fortress as soon as possible.

The red glow grew stronger as Byleth skidded down the peak of the first mountain they had climbed in the morning. She was getting closer to the fortress. Her natural speed had Byleth as one of the first mercenaries to make it over mountain. Several others were right behind the woman, panting heavily from the sprint from their makeshift camp. It was then that Byleth realized the red glow she was observing was actually a raging fire. The numerous small woods that surrounded Fódlan’s Locket were all burning brightly against the night sky. 

Byleth looked behind her to see who had managed to keep up with her speed. She made eye contact with the four mercenaries behind her. Talia. Oskar. Irene. Peder. Without any words, they nodded at each other, already knowing what to do. They would stick together and watch each other’s backs as they approached the fortress. In these conditions, it was dangerous to fight alone. All that separated the group from their destination was a large stretch of woods. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be one of the areas on fire yet.

The mercenaries moved together, entering the trees at a slow, careful pace. They were on high alert, well aware they were likely to encounter Almyran soldiers the closer they got to the fortress. Everything seemed quiet in this part of the woods. No soldiers. No weapons. No bodies.

“Watch out!” Irene shrieked, breaking the silence. Byleth barely had time to react. Several giant fireballs suddenly rained on them from out of nowhere. She managed to dodge the direct hit of the magic in time, but she was blown back from the resulting explosion as the fireballs hit. Byleth laid on the ground, completely disoriented. Her ears were ringing from the loud boom and her eyes were blurry from hitting her head. Byleth forced herself to stand up on quivering legs, using a nearby tree for support. She could barely make out her surroundings. Giant flames crackled around her and black smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see and breathe. She could feel the extreme heat of the fire as it quickly spread throughout the woods.

Byleth could barely make out the bodies of her fellow mercenaries on the ground, unmoving. Was it too late to save them? They needed to get out of here and fast. A solid  _ thunk _ was heard right next to Byleth. She instinctively looked to her left to find an arrow was embedded in the tree, barely a centimeter from her head. Byleth’s instincts kicked in, and she immediately hid behind the tree as several more  _ thunks _ could be heard from multiple arrows hitting the trunk. The mercenary gritted her teeth in frustration. She wanted to check on her comrades but now she had to worry about enemies in close range in addition to the raging fire.

Adrenaline rushing through her veins, Byleth knew she had to calm down and carefully assess her surroundings. She crouched down low to the ground, peering out from behind the tree and hoping the flames and smoke would hide her appearance. Byleth squinted her eyes. It looked like there was one archer accompanied by two axe users. The archer was still pointing an arrow in her direction, likely telling his comrades where she was hiding. Her suspicions were confirmed when the two axe users slowly made their way over to her location. Byleth moved back to hide behind the tree. Her throat felt raw from breathing in copious amounts of smoke and her eyes burned from the fumes. She could do this. She  _ had _ to do this.

Byleth waited until she knew the two men were close. She then darted out from behind the tree to attack the axe user on her right. The mercenary slashed at the legs of her opponent and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him into the fires. Trying to ignore his screams of agony, Byleth turned her attention to the other attacker. This one was prepared. He raised his axe, ready to strike at her, but Byleth easily blocked the attack in mid-air and maneuvered her sword to send the axe flying out of the man’s hands. Byleth ended him in one deadly strike. An explosion of pain suddenly erupted in the mercenary’s left shoulder. An arrow. She was hoping the archer would have trouble with a moving target among the flames and smoke. Byleth was half correct. At least the shot wasn’t fatal.

Byleth jumped through the flames, feeling them lick at her skin in order to surprise the archer with a close frontal attack. She embedded her sword in his chest. It was over. Byleth was about to pull her weapon out of the man’s armor when she heard an angry yell. Another man was rushing towards her, sword drawn and ready to strike. Byleth was a heartbeat too slow to react. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the impact. But it never came.

Byleth opened her eyes to see an arrow sticking out of the swordman’s chest, right where his heart was located. He had stopped in his approach, looking at the arrow in mild confusion before falling backwards. Byleth turned to look at her savior. Talia stood amongst the flames, bow in hand. She had some nasty burns on her left leg and head wound that was still oozing blood down the side of her face, but she was still alive.

Byleth pulled out her sword and then removed the arrow sticking out from her shoulder. She made her way over to Talia. “Thank you,” Byleth managed to hoarsely whisper before coughing violently.

Talia nodded. “We have to get out of here.” She pointed in a direction where there seemed to be less flames. “Over there.” The two of them headed deeper in the woods to encounter more Almyran soldiers. Talia stood back, sniping from a distance with deadly aim. Byleth specialized in close combat as a ferocious swordsmaster. She easily parried attacks and cut down her opponents. However, No matter how skilled the two mercenaries were, they were simply far too many enemies for them to handle on their own. Byleth was on her last sword with the other two broken and abandoned on the ground. Talia was running low on arrows, and her head wound was starting to affect her focus and aim. Byleth bit back a groan of pain as a woman managed to jab a lance into her thigh. She swiftly retaliated and took care of the woman before ripping out the lance and throwing it at an archer where it landed perfectly square in his chest causing him to crumble to the ground. Byleth panted and turned around. 

“Talia, are you alright?” She felt her blood run cold when she saw the mercenary lying on the ground with a handaxe protruding from her back. An Almyran soldier hovered over her body. Byleth screamed and avenged her fallen comrade.

At this point, Byleth was covered in blood, sweat, and ash. The fire was still raging as it had finally spread to this part of the woods, but she no longer felt the heat. Byleth stumbled, trying to find a way out of the trees and away from the flames. She had long run out of vulneraries at this point, and she had resorted to picking up random weapons dropped by her enemies as all her swords were broken. It hurt to move. Every muscle in her body was screaming. She felt the blood oozing out of her wounds. Every breath was painful as her lungs were screaming from inhaling so much smoke. How many enemies had she defeated at this point? 20? 30? 50? She had lost track of it all. At one point during the night, she managed to wound but not kill one Almyran soldier. He seemed young and inexperienced, immediately fleeing the battle scene after Byleth landed a shallow blow to his side. She hoped his escape would not come back to haunt her.

Just when Byleth thought she couldn’t venture any farther, she saw the edge of the woods. It looked like a rocky clearing was up ahead.  _ Perfect _ , Byleth thought to herself.  _ The fire likely won’t be able to spread there _ . The mercenary forced herself to run towards the exit, using up her last bit of strength. She immediately collapsed into the clearing, taking huge breaths of fresh, clean air. Byleth just needed to rest, just for a little bit. She looked up at the sky. The stars were just as beautiful as they were earlier in the night. She wondered if her father was safe. Byleth felt her consciousness slowly fading, eyelids suddenly getting heavier. The last thing she saw was a dark shadow appearing in the sky and getting closer, blocking the starlight. It was wyvern swooping down into the clearing. The glint of a silver axe reflected the moonlight.

Byleth passed out.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind comments on Chapter One! I apologize I didn't respond to them. Sometimes I forget to reply and then it's been too long and I get self-conscious about it haha.
> 
> The world's a bit crazy right now and I know we're all trying to handle it the best we can. Writing and reading fanfic have been helping me keep my mind occupied as I'm approaching Day 10 of complete isolation. Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Stay safe!

When Byleth awoke, the first thing she noticed was the terrible taste in her mouth. She instinctively coughed, trying to clear the bitterness but to no avail. _It must be from inhaling all that smoke_ , Byleth thought. _Wait. The fire?_ _The battle?!_ A moment of sheer terror briefly came over the mercenary before her survival instincts kicked in. Byleth immediately tried to scramble to her feet ready to defend herself from any enemies, but she found her legs and arms bound. Byleth clumsily fell on her back with a soft groan. She tried to wiggle out of her restraints, but her limbs were bound tightly, clearly done by a professional. There was no way she would be able to free herself on her own.

Byleth adjusted herself so she was sitting on her knees. She blinked away the blurriness in her eyes until her dark surroundings slowly came into focus. Byleth was no longer deep in the mountains of Fódlan’s Locket. She was no longer outrunning a forest fire or cutting down enemy soldiers one by one. Instead, she was in a large metal cage surrounded by numerous other people curled up and keeping to themselves. They seemed to all be young girls and women wearing the same cream colored cloth dress. Byleth looked down at herself and noticed she was also wearing the same outfit. She was surprised to notice that her wounds were gone. Her body was devoid of the ash, blood, and grime that should have been present from the fierce battle at the Almyran border. Had someone healed her? Cleaned her body and put her in this outfit? With her mercenary outfit now gone, Byleth realized her dagger was also missing. The dagger her father had gifted her from their previous mission in Faerghus.

“You’re awake.”

Byleth looked in the direction of the voice. It was a young girl who looked to be no older than thirteen years old. Dark skin. Dark brown hair. Bright amber eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. An Almyran. Byleth was surprised that the girl was able to speak the mercenary’s native tongue only with a slight accent.

“Are you from Fódlan?”

Byleth blinked. “Yes,” she responded quietly, before loudly coughing again. Her throat was still burning. The other residents in the cage stirred, turning their attention on the mercenary with curious eyes. It was then that Byleth noticed that everyone but her seemed to be an Almyran. “How can you spe-”

“You learn a thing or two being this close to the border,” the girl abruptly answered.

“Where am I?”

“A slave market. We’re being sold tomorrow.” Byleth stiffened in reaction to the news. She heard rumors from her fellow mercenaries that House Goneril had a bad habit of capturing Almyrans at the border and turning them into servants, but she hadn’t considered that Almyra would do the same to their enemies. It should have been expected.

“Why are you here?” the girl said with a note of harshness in her voice.

Byleth hesitated. “There was a battle at the border. I passed out and woke up here.” The girl stared intensely at the mercenary with cold eyes.

“My parents were killed by Fódlan soldiers at the border.”

Byleth swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She opened her mouth to apologize or offer some condolences but nothing came out. There was nothing she could say to bring this girl’s parents back or to stop the constant fighting between the two countries. She was powerless.

Luckily, the girl broke the silence, seemingly unbothered by Byleth’s lack of response. “What’s your name?”

“Byleth.”

The girl lightly snorted in amusement. “Fódlan people really do have funny names.”

“What’s yours?” the mercenary politely asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have a new name starting tomorrow anyways.” The girl seemed to be done questioning Byleth. She turned away and curled up in a ball, lying on her side. Everyone else in the cage turned their attention away from the mercenary and followed suit. Byleth laid on her back, looking at the roof of the cage, thinking about what the girl said.  _ A new name starting tomorrow. How terrible. Giving up both your autonomy and identity to another person. Will I cease to be Byleth tomorrow? _ The mercenary felt her resolve harden.  _ No. No, I won’t. _

At some point during the night, Byleth had fallen asleep. She was jolted awake with a harsh banging sound.

“Wake up!” A man loudly shouted in Almyran.

Byleth softly groaned and sat up in response to the loud, bellowing voice. It came from a short round man wearing numerous gold chains around his neck and extravagant rings on his fingers.  _ He must be the leader _ , Byleth thought to herself. The man was banging on the metal cage with a fancy looking cane. “It’s time for you lot to make me some money!”

A group of tall, strong-looking men were present behind their leader. One of them unlocked the door to the cage and signaled one of the girls to come forward. He removed the restraints on her legs and then placed metal shackles around her ankles that would only allow her to shuffle slowly, rendering her unable to run. The man pulled up the girl so she was now standing and tied more rope around her arm’s restraints to act as a leash. He handed her off to one of the other men. One-by-one the other occupants in the cage followed quietly and obediently. 

When it was finally Byleth’s turn to exit, the leader grinned at the mercenary while rubbing his hands together. “Ah our little Fódlan princess. We’re lucky she’s such a looker.” Byleth didn’t need to understand Almyran to know that his comments were not flattering. As one of the men put the shackles on her ankles, the leader grabbed Byleth’s face and loudly laughed in her face. Byleth’s nose wrinkled from his foul breath.

“Terrible shame I can’t keep you for myself, but you’ll be worth a fortune at the market. A Fódlan warrior girl. And with such pretty hair and eyes too.” The man rubbed his thumb over Byleth’s lips. “People will be climbing over each other just to get a good look at this exotic creature.”

The mercenary immediately bit down on the leader’s finger, feeling his warm blood gush into her mouth as he let out a terrifying scream.

“You bitch!” 

The man at her ankles immediately jabbed her in the side sharply with his hand, causing her to gasp in pain and let go of the leader’s finger. He immediately jerked his hand back, clutching his bleeding thumb in his other hand. Byleth suddenly found a sword aimed at her throat. The blade gently pressed into her skin but not hard enough to draw blood. The mercenary remained very still, glaring at the leader in defiance.

Surprisingly, the leader grinned and laughed again. “It’s ok! It’s ok! Don’t leave a mark on her. Can’t damage the merchandise before the sale. Just gag her and blindfold her. And get me a healer now!”

With the sword still pressed against her neck, Byleth had no choice but to let another man roughly gag and blindfold her.

“Remember we’re bringing the Fódlan girl out last! Now let’s get the show on!”

Byleth was dragged to her feet and stumbled around blindly as someone roughly pulled her towards their destination. She could tell they were now outside as she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and heard the sounds of a lively market. Byleth bumped into the man leading her as she was unaware he had stopped walking. The man barked at her in Almyran and she immediately stepped back and stood in place.

“Welcome! Welcome!” It was the leader’s voice. “We are very excited to begin our auction today. Many of you may have already heard some rumors, but we have a very special product today. So please be sure to stay until the end for the surprise reveal!” The crowd cheered and clapped. “Now, let’s bring up our first girl. She is around sixteen years old and perfect for a housemaid. We’ll start the bidding at 5 siglos!”

Byleth stopped listening to the man as she was unable to understand Almyran anyways. Instead she tried to calmly assess her situation. She was restrained from running, her hands were bound, and she was both blinded and gagged. Byleth cursed to herself. There was nothing she could do to escape. Instead, she thought about her father and the rest of their mercenary group.

At some point, Byleth felt her body yank forward. She almost fell to the ground but managed to find her balance at the last second. The man dragging her didn’t seem to care as he roughly pulled at her restraints to get her to move quicker. Byleth stumbled up some steps until she felt herself land on some sort of elevated platform that she assumed was in the middle of the market. She heard some gasps, whistles, and jeers from the crowd in response to her appearance. Byleth was roughly pushed to her knees and her blindfold was ripped off without warning. The mercenary was immediately blinded from the sudden brightness. She squinted her eyes until her vision adjusted. Byleth found herself in front of a large crowd at the center of attention.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen! The prize of the night is a young Fódlan woman, but not just any Fódlan woman. We have here a Fódlan warrior!” the leader proudly exclaimed. The crowd immediately expressed their disbelief.

“No way! Impossible!” a man shouted.

“People from Fódlan are cowards!” another yelled. “They aren’t real warriors.”

“That tiny creature? A warrior?”

“Now, now,” the leader of the auction said as he tried to quiet down the crowd. “This girl was found passed out at the border of Fódlan after a battle broke out several days ago. Witnesses claimed she single handedly took down numerous Almyran soldiers who were twice her size! Don’t let her looks fool you! She’s strong and deadly, nearly tried to bite my finger off this morning.” The man laughed. “So who thinks they can handle this foreigner? I can guarantee she can be of use for anything you can imagine, even as a war prize! We’ll start the bidding at twenty darics.”

A man raised his hand in the crowd. “Twenty darics. We got twenty. How about 25? 25! I see you, good sir. Can I hear thir-”

“Forty!” a man shouted.

“Forty heard,” the leader responded. “How about fifty?”

Byleth remained still as she realized how hopeless the situation was. She stared out in the crowd with blank, emotionless eyes as men raised their hands to bid on her. It was happening. She was about to be sold to a stranger. An Almyran. Part of Byleth suddenly wished she had died at the border. 

It was then when the mercenary made eye contact with a strange figure right in the middle of the crowd. He was wearing a hood and scarf around his mouth which obscured most of his face, but Byleth could still see his bright, piercing green eyes. She shuddered. There was something about his gaze that was different from all the other men at the market. The man blinked once and turned away, facing his back towards Byleth and disappearing into the crowd. The bidding continued for several more minutes.

“Two hundred darics! Do I have anything higher?” The leader paused for a few seconds. “Going once? Going twice?”

“One thousand darics.” A loud, clear voice was heard from the back of the crowd where a man stood with his hand raised. The crowd parted slightly so the leader of the auction could get a better look at him. It was him. The one with the green eyes.

“O-one th-thousand?” the man sputtered. He adjusted his clothes and regained his composure. “One thousand it is. Going once..? Going twice…..? Sold! To the man in the back!” The crowd clapped in awe. They had never seen someone be sold for such a high price.

Before Byleth could make eye contact with her now owner, she was roughly escorted off the stage. The leader closely trailed behind her.

“One thousand! One thousand! To think this Fódlan bitch was worth so much!” He patted Byleth’s cheeks in mock affection. She narrowed her eyes in warning, wishing nothing more than to slit this man’s throat and watch him bleed out in front of her. Byleth was forced to stand and wait around as other men came to claim their new property. A fair amount of time had passed during which all the other girls had been taken away, but Byleth remained in the same spot as the auction leader paced back and forth mumbling to himself.

“What if he doesn’t show? Did he just screw me over? I swear I’ll kill him if he doesn’t pay me.”

“Excuse me,” a smooth voice said. Everyone turned to look at the newcomer. “I’m here for the Fódlan girl.” It was the hooded figure from before. He was accompanied by a large man who was also wearing a hood and covering most of his face. 

“Ah yes, sir. Here she is. Quite a fiesty one, I might add. I would keep a good eye on her if I were you.” Green eyes rested on Byleth.

“Don’t worry,” the man said with a chuckle.”I think I can handle her.” He winked.

Byleth felt sudden rage engulf her body. How she would love to strangle this man with her bare hands. He dropped a large bag of gold coins in the auction leader’s hands.

“This should cover the price. I also added a little extra for all the trouble she’s caused.” The leader’s eyes widened in amazement as he opened the bag. He cleared his throat.

“Y-yes. This should do.” He nodded at the man guarding Byleth to hand her over to her new owner. The hooded figure took a hold of the leash and nodded his thanks before leading the mercenary away. Byleth was forced to slowly shuffle through the market with the green eyed man in front leading her and the larger man behind. She felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment and humiliation as all the market goers stared at the three of them and whispered amongst themselves. The two men accompanying Byleth paid no attention to the crowd and continued on without a word.

They had exited the town and traveled down a deserted road for several miles before the silence was broken. The man in front finally stopped and turned to look at Byleth. He dropped her leash and reached towards her face. “Stay still,” he said quietly with a perfect Fódlan accent. The man removed her gag, and Byleth moved her mouth around trying to regain feeling after being restrained for so long. “Better?”

Byleth looked up at the man and spit in his face. “I’ll kill you,” she hissed. The one behind her gripped her shoulders painfully in response but let go once the green eyed man raised his hand to call him off. He wiped his face.

“Now that wasn’t nice. Shouldn’t you be a bit kinder to your savior?”

Byleth growled. “Savior? Don’t you mean  _ owner _ ? If you’re really my savior, you’ll let me go right this instant.”

The man sighed and brought his arms behind his head. “Now unfortunately, I can’t do that. If you want to survive in this country, you’re going to have to trust me.”

“And why should I do that?” Byleth immediately questioned, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

The man finally removed his hood and unwrapped the scarf covering his face. Dark skin. Spiky brown hair with a single braid down the side. And those damn green eyes. He winked.

“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about being an outsider.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Siglos is a silver coin and daric is a gold coin which I think was the currency used in the Achaemenid Persian Empire, according to Wikipedia. From what I read, it looks like 1 daric = 20 siglos. I know a lot of Almyra was based on the Persian Empire, so I'm trying to be somewhat historically accurate-ish?
> 
> Also I know there was been more information about Claude's history from recent interviews and the Cindered Shadows route/Ashen Wolves students (which I haven't finished yet oops). I think I'm planning on incorporating this information in the story, though I haven't decided for certain yet. It depends how canon compliant I want to be in setting up this story?? I'll definitely tag these spoilers if I decide to include them just as an fyi. Thanks for reading!


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